Stars Collide
by The Lovely Marauders
Summary: Sirius and Narcissa are thrown into a party. Things take off from there. First smut piece. NO FLAMES! I have posted this to my own account and the joint account that I share with two friends.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter realm.**

**Warning: Hate sex! And canon pairing will be not happen(Lucius/Narcissa) and will have non-canon pairings. Cousin-cest. Blackcest. M Rated. And a happily ever after. Angst**

**Pairing: Sirius/Narcissa and James/Sirius(unrequited) and James/Regulus(unrequited)**

**Setting: Sirius already ran away and in here it's vaguely implied Cygnus Black has or is about to arrange Narcissa with Lucius. Or at least is thinking about it. They were involved before he ran away in this one-shot. This is their first time seeing each other in a few months.**

**Note: I don't know if Lucius and Narcissa were in an arranged marriage where they gradually fell in love or if it was arranged at all or if Lucius and Narcissa dated, fell in love, asked Cygnus for Narcissa's hand in marriage or what. So, please don't flame for not knowing this. And also, I wouldn't know if it happened before or after Sirius ran away.**

**Note on the Lovely Marauders account: If you read our bio, then you will know this is a joint account that I share with Kuma In Pink and Lazybum89. And this is mine, Raven Potter Weasley's, work. So, don't send a PM on my own account telling me someone stole my work. I assure you this is mine. I just want to post it on this joint account and my own. **

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><p>"Oh, don't be ridiculous, I'm hardly going to turn my charms on you with this crowd about." Narcissa's eye-roll was as infuriating as her cavalier tone. Sirius hunched himself more over the balcony railing, as though removing her from his peripheral vision would remove her from existence.<p>

He should have known better than to hope Narcissa would leave well enough alone.

There was a rustle of silk, and then dusky arms came into view, leaning on the iron-wrought rail. "Come now, Siri," Cissa drawled in that soft, low feminine voice of hers. "This is a party. You're meant to be sociable. You know...talk with everyone, tiny snacks, repetitive dances...Basically the same things we have been doing at these balls and dinners we have been going to since childhood."

"Fuck off, Cissa," he growled, refusing to look either at or away from her.

For a moment, she remained silent, staring out at the sky, and for a moment, Sirius almost let himself believe she wasn't there. Then, when she did speak, the mockery had left her voice.

"Do you wait for it, too?"

Sirius closed his eyes briefly. "Do I _what_?"

"Wait for it."

He looked at her. He knew it was a mistake, knew he shouldn't, knew he'd regret it. But he looked at her, and she was beautiful.

Cissa had always been beautiful. Sirius considered it her taunting fault, to be so beautiful with her porcelain skin, blonde curly hair, and grey eyes, only to be a proper lady that did what she was always told to do. Then again...this whole secretive relationship was not Narcissa Black. But, it was her and him that had been in it. The keywords: _had been_.

Trying to look away, but unable to tear his eyes from her moon-bathed face, the silver light dancing on blonde lashes, Sirius sighed, and gruffly replied, "Yes. I do."

The shade of a smile touched her lips. "I thought you might."

Sirius turned, leaning his elbows back on the railing and gazing back towards the ballroom. "Don't read too much into it."

"And would I?" she asked, and he noted the creep of disdain mixed with love come back into her voice.

"It doesn't mean _anything_."

"Black blood runs true and strong, Sirius." A hectic pace, the heat of fervor climbing in her words. "You've just proven as much. Running away doesn't make it stop—"

"Enough," he snarled, in warning.

"—You'll never get rid of it, Sirius, you can't get rid of something that's in your _blood_." High colour flooded her cheeks; not the anger he usually saw, but excitement, even hope. Her fingers reached out, closing around his wrist, and with the pressure of her thumb on his vein, he felt his pulse leap at her touch.

"Enough!" The word ripped out of him in a roar, and he spun around, seizing her shoulders.

But Cissa didn't stop, she went on, inexorable: "Listen to what your blood is telling you, Sirius, come back to the family, you and I had been in a -"

"Stop it!"

"The stars are in your blood, Sirius, you can't ignore them forev-!" The last word halted abruptly when Sirius smacked her sharply across the mouth. He wanted to hurt her, he wanted to get rid of her, hell, he wanted to throw her off the bloody balcony. Instead of crying or just calmly take it, like he expected her, she gave a soft little gasp, and her tongue darted out to moisten her sore lower lip... oh, then he wanted to do something else entirely.

Her dark eyes looked up at him, narrowed slightly, her emotions broiling. The usual love, hate, and disgust with her errant cousin swirled at the surface, but beneath them, Narcissa felt a surge of hope, of passion renewed. She could do this, she could bring her cousin back into the fold, and have him finally tell her that he loved her before it was too late...Before her father Cygnus arranged anything with Lucius Malfoy.

It was what had always been intended for them.

Cissa drew a deep breath. He hadn't broken away from her yet, and she knew that could only be working in her favour. They had not been so near since the day he had left home, when she had confronted him for what she thought would be the last time. It less than a year, yet still, she felt the tremor she had experienced then, the flutter of fate like a hummingbird's heart in her hand.

Sirius's hand drifted over her hair as his head dipped close to hers. "Damn you..." he whispered. "How in hell do you..."

He never finished the question, though she suspected she knew what it was. His forehead touched to hers, his mirror-grey eyes drinking in the luxury of her beauty. Deftly, his fingers tangled in her blonde curls, and he pulled slightly, delighting in the soft, sharp intake of breath the thrill of pain provoked from her.

He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and never let go, wanted to lay claim to a prize some part of him still screamed ought to have been his all along. An image entered his head unbidden, of her dark skin laid bare, her body writhing beneath his, his hands pinning her wrists down to silk sheets. Intoxicating lust flooded through him, and his hands tightened on her. With his lips a breath above her jawline, he inhaled the spicy scent of her, exotic and enticing; then he dropped away suddenly, cursing under his breath, "To hell with you and your love, Narcissa!"

Narcissa grasped at the front of his shirt, fisting her hands in the fabric. "_No_, Sirius, _stay._" It was an imploration or an order; neither was quite sure.

He thrust her from him, shoving her back against the railing, and held her at arm's length. "You _will not_ play this game, not with me." Brusquely, Sirius released her and turned, storming back to the ballroom, expecting to hear her run behind him, and strangely disappointed that it did not come.

Narcissa let herself be drawn aside by Lucius Malfoy and given a fair few glasses of champagne. Sirius located his cousins James Charlus Potter and Frank Longbottom and proceeded to imbibe no small amount of whiskey. By the midnight hour, both had reached agreeable states of inebriation - and they were far from the only ones. Members of both parties in attendance seemed to have decided the best way to preserve the peace was through intoxication.

In between bubbling flutes, Cissa danced. Almost riotously, she danced, turning the elegant lines of the foxtrot into lightning strikes, the graceful curves of the waltz to seductive curls of fire. She danced as she dueled as she fucked; Cissa could never be truly happy unless she was _doing _something, active in some way, letting all the hate she had for being made into a proper lady, of her passionate soul thrum in her blood and string along every nerve. Whatever the activity, once Cissa made the choice to be involved, it received all her energy, all her being, and as she whirled about the LeStrange's ballroom, she let the exertion sweep all troubling thoughts from her mind. They didn't have to exist. Nothing had to exist but what she permitted; it was the same thought that guided her through crossed wands and the singing haze of jinxes and curses thrown across deserted alleys or open fields. It was simultaneously a gloriously obliterating haze, and a sense of perfect clarity: all would be right, so long as she kept moving, and never let herself stop.

The construct was fragile, though, and came crashing on her when, stepping out into the hall for fresh air, and to escape a particularly unwanted suitor, she collided with precisely the man she'd been so energetically driving from her thoughts.

At first he hardly saw her, but when he focused past the tumble of dark hair and saw the darker eyes and firmly set jaw, he gave her a shove in revulsion. "Can't you leave off, woman?" he grumbled.

"_You_ ran into _me_," she retorted, brushing past him.

Sirius tried to let it go, but letting Cissa have the last word was never comfortable, and so as she rounded a corner - towards an atrium, or a powder room, in any case towards escape - he followed, his long, loping legs easily pacing her small, quick strides. "I thought you didn't _want_ to play games," she shot at him, without bothering to look over her shoulder. Her tone should have been snide, cruel, cold, and calm, but while it was not without edge, it somehow fell more on the side of seductive than sneering. "So why are you following me?"

"To comment on the spectacle you've been making of yourself."

She pivoted neatly on one high heel, forcing him to come to an abrupt halt in front of her and smiled a rare happy smile that was rarely seen upon the blonde's face, "You were watching."

His jaw tightened; she made it sound such a victory for her. "It could hardly be helped, the way you were carrying on," he defended, aware even as he spoke how lame the excuse sounded. Narcissa _was_ a proper lady, however tonight she act much like both of her older sisters, whom were always making commotions some way.

An impudent smirk lazily wandered onto her pert red lips. "Why can't you just admit how you're drawn to me? It would go so much easier if you could just give in to it." The scent of whiskey was strong on him as he seized her, fingers bruising at her arms, and her mocking laughter only made him press harder: "That won't make it go away, you know."

"Oh?" He caught her under the chin with one hand, gripping her jaw fiercely. "Seems you've been trying the same tactic. How much champagne have you had?"

She jerked away from him, lifting her head imperiously. "Concerned for my welfare, Sirius? How touching." The icy veneer she was trying to draw over herself was faltering, and she could feel it; Bellatrix and Andromeda could call down the chill of winter itself at the slightest provocation, but Narcissa had never mastered the talent.

"Only pointing out one of your many depravities," Sirius answered hotly. "I couldn't give less of a damn for your welfare."

"Your attempts at indifference would be _so_ much more convincing," she spat, "if you could manage to stop looking down my dress."

Sirius realised with mild dismay that he _was_ staring. In the candlelight of the hallway, brighter than when he had encountered her on the balcony, the violet silk shimmered like a water fall from another world. He found his eyes drawn down from her ample bosom, itself barely contained by the bodice of the dress, to where the skirt split halfway between hips and knees, revealing a pleated undergown that was nearly sheer. "I can hardly be blamed for that," Sirius snarled back, lifting his eyes back up to her face in an attempt to regain himself. "You're falling out of the damned thing like a common whore. I didn't see you chastising Lucius Malfoy pawing at you."

As soon as she smiled, Sirius knew he'd given too much away. "Jealousy is _such_ a nice colour on you, Sirius," Cissa drawled, reaching one condescending hand up to flick his disheveled hair out of his eyes. "And how it must eat at you. So much more than the others." Her body was still loose and languid from the champagne, but her eyes were keen, incisive - the look of a panther toying with its prey. "They all lose me because of _my_ choices, you know. It's always me who decides. But _you_ - you lost me through _your_ choices." He seized her roughly by the sides, with a threatening growl, but Cissa was silent and then said, "Does it trouble you, Siri, to think of that? You could have me, all that you wanted of me, if not for your own foolishness."

"Shut up, bitch," Sirius snarled, giving her a little shake. She was so small, her tiny waist almost encircled by his hands. The shake threw her off-balance; one foot slid out of its high heel, and she would have been toppled over had not Sirius, with a reflex so quick it shamed him, caught her tight about the waist with one strong arm.

Narcissa gaped up at him, momentarily breathless, and found his eyes raking over her as though he could devour her by sight alone. His free hand found her throat, curling around with just enough pressure to send a shudder through her slack limbs. Then gaze and fingers both moved down, roving over her chest. With sudden, vehement force, Sirius drew his hand over the swell of her breasts left exposed by her gown's low neckline, his short fingernails dragging red lines on her dusky skin. Cissa gasped, her back arching involuntarily at the rough caress. With a low, amused laugh, Sirius did it again, bringing his hand fully down to the violet border of her neckline, and she bucked again, bringing her hips flush against his; even through his trousers and the silken falls of her skirts, she could feel the proof of his arousal, rigid and straining against its confines.

All too aware of her sudden vulnerability, Cissa swallowed, hard, and tried to regain control of the situation. "Sirius," she began, forcing the cold icy disdain back into her voice, "you-"

But the hand not supporting her tangled sharply in her hair. "Did I tell you," he said, jerking back on the blonde curls, "to speak?" His mouth swiftly descended to her exposed throat, ravaging the tender flesh with a savage bite. Cissa's knees buckled, and she grasped tightly at Sirius's upper arms to keep herself upright. "Fucking tease," he growled in her ear, before taking another not-too-gentle nibble at her neck. "Time you paid a price for that...that flirting...with Malfoy" In one solid movement, he shoved her against the wall, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, furious and possessive.

Cissa's own body warred with her. One hand sank into Sirius's wealth of dark hair, holding him fast, while the other pummeled at his left shoulder, pushing him away. After a moment, Sirius settled the problem for her by grabbing both wrists and forcing them to the wall. Cissa moaned against his mouth, though whether it was in pleasure or protest, even she wasn't quite sure. Their kiss was half a battle, his lips bruising against hers, his probing tongue warring for domination. Only when Cissa's mouth twisted, her teeth sinking into his lower lip, did he pull away, grasping her shoulders and shaking her again. When she raised a hand to strike him, he grabbed her arm and pressed a hot kiss to the inside of her wrist, nipping just hard enough to make her gasp. Then he clasped her hard by the hip and neck, forcing her into another kiss.

The sound of footsteps from down the corridor broke the haze enveloping them. The beats - uneven, one pair heeled, the other not - mingled with twittering, drunken laughter, echoing from around the nearest corner. Sirius and Narcissa exchanged slightly panicked looks. He clapped a hand over her mouth, his eyes following the sound down the hallway. With the arm around her waist, he hauled her into the nearest side room.

Once inside, Sirius gave the room - which was, as it turned out, a rather blandly decorated sitting room, no doubt one of a dozen identical along the hallway outside the ballroom - the briefest of visual sweeps to ensure it was empty, before slamming Narcissa up against the door. He leaned one arm against her, pressing her against the mahogany wood, while he fished in his pocket for his wand. A quick spell locked the door behind them, and then, with that token precaution fulfilled, his fingers scrambled at the silken edges of her gown, pushing impatiently, trying to free her breasts. The gown, though, lay too tight against her skin. The fabric would not budge from her shoulders. Sirius was on the verge of tearing the bodice apart when Cissa hissed in his ear, "Laces, bastard." He managed to grunt an acknowledgement before sliding his hand around to the intricate pattern of cords criss-crossing her back. A few skillful pulls, and the gown fell open like a budding flower. Sirius shoved at the fabric, pushing it off of her shoulders and barely waiting for her to extract her arms before jerking it over her hips as well. The gown made a violet puddle at her feet, leaving Cissa clad in an ebony corset, laced over the whisper-thin chemise.

"Women," he muttered, pawing roughly at her hips, dropping his head for a biting kiss at the rounded curve of her breast, peeping up from above the corset. "Why you make your clothes so damn difficult..."

"I gather it's rather meant to prevent us from doing precisely this," Cissa breathed, grasping frenetically at the edges of his jacket. As his mouth drew a line of red marks across her chest and shoulders, Cissa pushed at the garment, trying to divest him as summarily as he had done to her.

But Sirius's ember-grey eyes sparked wickedly as he grabbed her wrists and forced her arms behind her back. "Greedy," he admonished, and before she could form a protest, he kissed her soundly. Narcissa allowed herself to melt into it, surrendering to the onslaught of his power. She made a token struggle to free her arms, but thrilled when he kept her locked firmly in place. So few men presented such a _challenge_, and none of them quite like Sirius, none so powerfully obstinate...

His hands shifted slightly: one of them moved downward, grasping roughly at the flesh of her hip, before drawing up the fabric of her undergown. He let it bunch in his hand - the material was so thin that the length of it, from hip to floor, was eventually gathered and crumpled in his fist. And then his hand stole underneath, letting the gossamer fabric cascade over his arm while his fingers probed between her legs. At the same time, the hand still at her back shifted, but it wasn't until she felt a sharp tug around her ribs that she realised he had wound his fingers in the laces of her corset.

As one finger slipped between her folds, sinking into the warm dew, his hand jerked on the laces, tightening the corset just enough to make her gasp. She felt him grin against her mouth, and as his finger delved to press at the sensitive ridge inside her, he pulled on the laces again. It wasn't enough to truly constrict her breathing, but it left her just short enough of air to feel pleasantly lightheaded, and that combined with the skillful coaxing of Sirius's fingers soon had her clutching desperately at his shoulders, mewling for release. But Sirius had learned, and knew her well, and every time he felt her approaching the brink, he would deliberately pull back to slow, languorous strokes, and let maddeningly soft kisses take the place of his satisfyingly brutal ravages. Finally she lashed out in frustration, pummeling his shoulder with her fist, crying out, "_Dammit_, Siri!"

He laughed; it was full and throaty, the way his laughter should always have been, not dryly crackling with bitterness. He took her earlobe in his teeth and tugged, then breathed, "_Ask_ nicely."

An outraged hiss escaped her, but when he jerked on her corset laces again, she whimpered a quiet "_Please, Siri_. _PLEASE, OH MERLIN, SIRI_?"

It was the best he was likely to get from her, and Sirius knew better than to press his luck. His fingers moved deftly to give her what she wanted, and as she exploded in ecstasy, he bit hard at her shoulder, leaving a red welt behind.

While Narcissa was panting, Sirius moved quickly to free himself from the restriction of his trousers. He lifted her thighs in his strong arms and braced her against the wall, and she eagerly locked her ankles around his waist, allowing him to fill her with a single thrust. Sirius didn't bother to start slow, he immediately pounded into her bruising her twat.

Sirius didn't know why he felt this primal _need_ when it came to Narcissa, this surging desire to possess that, rather than being fulfilled, was stoked hotter and brighter every time he pounded into her. He grunted with the exertion, his hands surely leaving bruises on her thighs, he held them so tightly, and he let his eyes feast on the spectacle before him: the red marks his mouth had left on her skin, the curve of her breasts above the corset bouncing in a delightful rhythm, the high flush in her cheeks, the way her teeth bit into her lower lip when the throes of rapture became too much for her to bear. He gloried in it all. It was his doing, and for this moment, she was _his_, and none other's.

For her part, Cissa found herself clinging to him as though nothing else mattered - nothing else _did_, not in that moment, and if it never stopped, nothing could ever go wrong, or cross her, or trouble her. She let each driving thrust push her further into that delectable haze, the swirls of ecstasy obliterating any thoughts of _when_ or _if_ or _next_. She screamed as she came, her nails that had been cut sinking deep into the back of Sirius's neck, and the spasm of her muscles around him was enough to send him spiraling over the edge as well. His release came with a feral growl, a bestial snarl accompanying each aftershock, the pure guttural lust of the sound provoking shivers in Narcissa's spine.

But then he withdrew, and set her down, the cascades of sheer fabric falling again to her ankles.

For the space of a heartbeat, his body lingered over hers, the heat from their bodies comingling, near enough to spark a blaze between them. Then he stepped back, leaving Cissa feeling oddly bereft, sagging against the wall. He turned away from her as he righted his clothing. Still shaking from the final tremors of pleasure, she bent to gather up her gown, pulling her arms back through the sleeves.

"This was... we can not keep..." His voice was husky, ragged; she was pleased to hear it. Even if he demurred now, he could not be indifferent, and that was what really mattered.

She fished in a hidden pocket of her gown for her wand, and touched it behind her back, activating a convenience spell on the laces. "We were meant for each other, you know," she said, as the cords coiled and twirled around each other, drawing the violet fabric back together, like a flower folding at the dawn. "Nature and fate designed it...We agreed and acted upon it a long time ago."

"I shall go to Uncle Cygnus with a proposal of sorts, then, shall I," Sirius remarked to Narcissa.

Narcissa turned her head towards Sirius,"Oh really, Siri?" She looked so hopeful and near tears that moistened her grey eyes, who were looking up at him, imploring him so. Sirius nodded his head.

"Lucius will not have what has been mine for a long time,"Sirius growled against her.

Then Sirius opened the door, grabbed Narcissa's 5'2 small, petite frame and held her hand walking them towards the Blacks.

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><p>The same room that Sirius and Narcissa entered, fucked in, declared their love in, and then exited, actually had four people in the room at the time of Sirius and Narcissa doing everything in that room. This time two young men came out of a closet, that was attached in said room, that they had been making out and on the way to fucking, in. The first young man had messy hair, hazel eyes, wired-rimmed glasses that were askew. The other looked exactly like Sirius, but was one year younger than his older brother, and had the same grey eyes as his older brother and older cousin.<p>

_'Sirius and Narcissa,_' James Charlus Potter and his lover Regulus Arcturus Black thought in shock.

"They were together," Regulus asked himself in disbelief.

"Yes, Sirius told me a long time ago, however when he ran away and told me about his worries over leaving you behind with your parents, he mentioned briefly that he stopped the whole thing with Cissa."James told his lover.

"And what about you," Regulus said to James, in a sad voice.

"What about me,"James asked in a confused voice.

"Are you okay with this development between my brother and cousin," Regulus asked James, his voice breaking. James's face was all the answer he needed.

"You're still using me to quench your thirst, wishes, and desires...for letting yourself believe that you are fucking Sirius, aren't you?" tears dropped down at a fast pace on Regulus's face, his grey eyes imploring the hazel eyed young man that it wasn't true,"Still, James? You are still in love with Sirius?"

"..."

"I always hoped you would love me back eventually, as soon as Sirius in less words told Narcissa he loved her too, you froze up," he paused and then continued,"It will never be me. I was so happy when you broke up with the red-haired bitch, I thought I finally had my chance, only to realize that you love Sirius, and it will never be me."

"No!Regulus, it's not that," James said.

"It is, James" Regulus said, looking up at James,"And this is the last time this happened." He stood on his tip-toes and kissed James on the lips, pulling away slowly. The pain in his grey eyes was so blatant,"Good-bye, James."

And with that a couple reunited...Another one ended.

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><p><strong>Read and Review.<strong>

**NO FLAMES!**


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